


A Midwinter Night's Kegster

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Drunk Kissing, F/F, Jealousy, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spin the Bottle gets out of hand, Johnson talks way too much, and Bitty kisses a lot of hockey players before he gets the one he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Midwinter Night's Kegster

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, guys. I don't know. I really just wanted to write everyone kissing.

The kegster was raging by the time Johnson showed up. Shitty was on the porch, half naked as usual, passing out cups of tub juice. 

He waved as Johnson approached. “Long time no see, brah!”

Johnson tapped his chin. “Has it really been a long time? Technically, within the bounds of this narrative, we’ve never seen each other before at all! Funny, isn’t it? Of course, if this alternate universe follows the canon timeline up until this specific event, then yeah, I guess it’s been since May - though, really, do we know that for certain? I could’ve come to any of your games, in theory. Hell, I could Skype with Ransom and Holster on a weekly basis and no one would know! I certainly wouldn’t. There’s an endless number of possibilities here, though I guess the safest assumption, based on Bitty’s Twitter, is that I haven’t seen any of you guys in months. Wow. Now I feel kind of lonely. I have a girlfriend, right? Or do I? Maybe I have a dog. That would be nice.” 

“...What?” 

Johnson shrugged. “Apparently it’s alumni tradition to come down and man the tub juice station for at least one kegster, bro, so go have fun tonight. Ooh!” He shot a few finger guns at Shitty. “You guys should play a game! Like, I don't know, spin the bottle or something. Get crazy.”

Shitty looked like he wasn't quite sure he should leave the booze alone with Johnson, but eventually shrugged. “Alright...I'm gonna hit the head. As always, it’s been weird, Johnson.” 

“Always glad to be a plot device, man,” Johnson called with a wave. “Just happy to be involved.” 

Shitty hadn't meant to take Johnson’s advice. But  _ damn  _ if spin the bottle wasn't fun. It'd been awhile since they'd had a game in the Haus. “Lards!” He shouted, snatching a Natty from the cooler. “Lards, I have an idea!” 

This was how Bitty found himself on the kitchen floor, part of a circle that surrounded an empty vodka bottle. Half the volleyball team was there, including Farmer, who was tucked against Chowder’s side, and the two girls Bitty had seen hanging out with Ransom and Holster earlier. 

Shitty stood before them, arms outstretched. “The name of the game is Spin the Bottle, my friends! My fellow Wellies! My brothers and sisters in arms against the forces of sobriety!”

Lardo rolled her eyes. “Shitty, sit down and shut up. There’s tonsil hockey to be played.” 

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” He said with a gleeful salute, plopping down on the kitchen floor next to Lardo. 

“Who goes first?” Ransom asked. Holster eyed Lardo with a mischievous smirk. 

“Shortest person spins first!” He bellowed, hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. He grimaced as Lardo glared at him, the color draining from his face. “I, uh, mean, second-shortest person spins first?” 

“Darnit,” Bitty said with a huff. “I hate going first.” 

Ransom and Holster chanted Bitty’s name and Lardo smirked at him. With a dramatic, put-upon sigh, he spun the bottle, his fingers coming away sticky with the sugary residue of cherry vodka. He licked at it absently, watching as the bottleneck slowed to a stop. 

“Ye-e-es!” Lardo shouted triumphantly. “Bits, am I taking your girl-kiss virginity? I’m honored.” 

Bitty laughed, a little relieved it hadn’t landed on one of the boys. “I’m sorry to say that I had my girl-kiss cherry popped a long time ago, Lards.” 

Lardo held a hand to her heart in mock sorrow, then scrambled across the circle to plop down onto Bitty’s lap. With little ceremony, she planted a loud, wet kiss onto his mouth. He kissed back, though they were both laughing a little too hard for it to be anything other than messy and awkward. 

The others hooted and hollered, and someone -  _ Holster _ \- wolf whistled. Lardo pulled away with a grin and scooted back to her spot. 

“I’m a little disappointed, Bits,” she said once the cheering died down. “I totally expected your mouth to taste like pie.” 

Bitty let out a surprised laugh. “Y’all know I don’t eat as much pie as I bake, right?” 

“So  _ that’s _ how you keep up your  _ sexy bod _ ,” Ransom said with a wink. Bitty felt his face turn pink. 

“Your pies have been sabotaging the rest of us,” Holster said, patting at his stomach. “We have to  _ work _ for our hotness.” 

“Unfair, Bits,” Ransom added. 

“Super unfair.” 

“Gosh,  _ stop _ ,” Bitty said. “Someone spin. Lardo, it’s your turn.” 

“Mm, with pleasure,” Lardo said, reaching out to spin the bottle. Her face lit up when it landed on Farmer. Farmer, to Bitty’s surprise, looked unfazed. Chowder, to no one’s surprise, turned bright red. 

“Get it, Lards,” someone shouted. 

Caitlin and Lardo met in the middle, both smiling into the kiss. It was more chaste than Bitty expected from Lardo, but Farmer looked like she was holding back, possibly for Chowder’s sake. He was watching them with wide-eyed fascination, giggling a little when Farmer cupped Lardo’s face in her hands. 

“I think we’ve found Chow’s new kink,” Holster stage-whispered. “ _ Watching _ .” 

Chowder wailed in embarrassment as everyone else laughed. Farmer and Lardo broke apart grinning, and Farmer crawled back to pat Chowder on the back. His face turned an even darker shade of red as she whispered something in his ear, but he looked significantly less mortified. Bitty bit his lip to stop laughing. 

Caitlin spun and landed on Ransom, who made a show of using tongue directly in front of Chowder. Then Ransom spun and got Shitty, who pretended to swoon and demanded tongue as well. Shitty kissed March, March kissed April, April kissed Nursey, and Nursey kissed a very giggly, very awkward Chowder. 

Everyone at this point was well on their way to shitfaced. Bitty had listed into Holster’s shoulder at some point and made no effort to move. Everything was warm, everyone was happy, and he wasn’t thinking about the fact that Jack and Parse disappeared upstairs together at  _ all _ . 

“Chow, spin or get off the pot,” Lardo shouted. “I wanna see some good ol’ fashioned  _ macking _ .” 

A very unsteady Chowder crawled to the bottle and gave it a spin, watching with an intense gaze as it slowed to a stop in front of Bitty. 

“Bitty!” He shouted cheerfully. “Me n’ you!” 

“Oh, goodness,” Bitty said. “C’mere, hun.” 

Chowder scrambled to kneel in front of Bitty, beaming down at him. Even sitting, he was still taller. Bitty cupped Chowder’s face in both hands, unable to resist the urge to squeeze his favorite frog’s cheeks a little before pressing a very chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Bo-o-oring!” Ransom shouted. 

“Give us  _ tongue _ !”

“Boo!”

Bitty pulled away, frowning at the crowd. “Leave my sweet, baby goalie alone-  _ mmph _ !” 

Chowder had pulled their mouths back together, deepening the kiss. His braces scraped along Bitty’s lips as their mouths opened, stinging in a nice, raw sort of way. Chowder’s hands, calloused from years of hockey, cupped Bitty’s neck, thumbs resting at his jaw. It was a sweet, gentle sort of kiss, lips moving slowly against each other. Bitty’s toes curled at the tenderness of it all; Caitlin Farmer was a lucky lady. 

“What’s going on in here?” 

Everyone cheered as Jack entered the kitchen. Bitty pulled back from Chowder with a smile and patted him on the cheek. 

“That was nice, Bitty!” Chowder exclaimed. Bitty caught Jack’s eye. Jack grinned with amusement. “You’re a good kisser!” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Bitty said. “You ain’t bad yourself.” 

Chowder beamed at him and went back to his spot next to Farmer. Jack plopped down next to Bitty and nodded to the bottle. 

“And how old are we again?” He asked, mostly directed at Bitty. Bitty scoffed. 

“Never too old for spin the bottle, Mr. Zimmermann,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You joining us, Jay-Zed?” Ransom asked with a smirk. Holster and Bitty groaned in unison at the nickname. 

“Sure,” Jack said with a shrug. “Whose spin is it?” 

Bitty raised his hand. “Mine. Speaking of…” He reached out and gave the bottle a delicate twirl, absolutely  _ not _ letting himself hope for one second that it would land on-

Shitty. Of course it would land on Shitty. 

“Oh, Bits,” Shitty said with a delighted grin. “Oh, Bitty Bits.”

“Good God,” Bitty muttered, grabbing Jack’s arm. “Save me.”

Jack chuckled. “The bottle’s spoken, Bittle. No one can help you now.” 

Bitty glared up at him, but his retort was cut off by Shitty crawling on top of him and nearly pushing him to the ground with the force of his kiss. 

Shitty’s mustache did not tickle as much as Bitty thought, though it was certainly more  _ present _ than he’d hoped for. Shitty didn’t seem to aim for any real sort of kissing, instead smacking increasingly wetter, louder kisses against Bitty’s lips. “Let me love you, brah,” Shitty said, laughing. “You know you want the ‘stache.”

“Get  _ off _ me, you big weirdo,” Bitty said, pushing at Shitty’s (unsurprisingly) bare chest. Shitty eventually relented, with one last, suction-cup-like kiss to his cheek. Bitty scrubbed at his face in disgust as everyone else laughed. 

“And that’s how Shits gets  _ all _ the ladies,” Lardo said through her snorts of laughter. “Oh, man, that was beautiful.” 

Shitty flopped to the side, not bothering returning to his spot, and spun the bottle with a lazy grin. For a brief, terrifying moment, Bitty thought it was going to land on him again. But some higher power nudged it just to the left, pointing the neck directly at Jack. 

“YES!” Shitty shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY MY ENTIRE LIFE.” 

Bitty fell over laughing. He could hear Jack mumbling curses under his breath, but he didn’t back away when Shitty plopped down in his lap, wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck. 

“I’ll never let go, Jack,” Shitty said, batting his eyelashes. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, and took the plunge.

The kiss was...not something Bitty realized he wanted. But now that it was in front of him, Bitty couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two seniors. Shitty grasped at the front of Jack’s shirt, tilting his head to adjust the angle so that he was almost kissing straight up. Jack practically  _ caressed  _ Shitty’s face as he moved his hand down to cradle Shitty’s neck. They moved together softly, tenderly, and it made something in Bitty’s chest ache. 

Shitty pulled away after a minute, beaming, and pulled Jack into a hug. “Brah, that was beautiful. I’m gonna cry. Thank you.”

“Shitty, get off me,” Jack said. “It’s my turn to spin.”

“No, shh,  _ shh _ .” Shitty nuzzled his head under Jack’s chin. “We’re having a  _ moment _ .” 

“Bittle,” Jack said, startling Bitty from his daze. “Spin it for me, will you?” 

Bitty nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and gave the bottle a twirl. 

“Oh, Jack,” Lardo said with a grin. “It’s such a good night for you.” 

“YE-E-ES,” Shitty groaned, throwing his head back. “Everything I’ve ever  _ wanted _ .” 

“Shits, you are so drunk,” Jack mumbled, finally looking a little embarrassed. Lardo slid across the circle, and Bitty was almost certain she was  _ blushing _ -

“S’been a while, Zimmermann,” she said with a small smile. Jack coughed and pointedly looked away and the circle gaped at them. 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Ransom asked, grin widening slowly. 

Holster looked like a kid in a candy shop, slapping at Ransom’s arm excitedly. “Jack. Lards.  _ Deets _ .” 

Lardo rolled her eyes. “This isn’t Truth or Dare, assholes. Mind your own beeswax.”

The kiss was, surprisingly, almost timid. Both Jack and Lardo hesitated, reluctant to meet each other’s eyes. When their lips did touch, though, there was an ease to it that had Bitty gaping. The circle had gone silent. 

Even when they were both sitting, Jack had several inches on Lardo, so he hunched to find a better angle. Lardo shifted as he moved, snaking a hand to tug gently at his hair. Jack let out a soft grunt and settled his hands on her waist. Bitty felt his face burn as he realized Jack could almost meet his fingers at the small of Lardo’s back, their size difference was that huge. 

“Brah,” Shitty whispered. “ _ Brahs _ . You’ve been holding out on me.” 

They pulled apart. Jack coughed again and Lardo rolled her eyes. “Keep it in your pants, Shits.” 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” 

Everyone in the circle started shouting and whooping and asking questions. Lardo scoffed and smirked and said nothing. Jack steadily grew more and more embarrassed-looking. Bitty excused himself and fled the kitchen.

Though the living room wasn’t the most calming of places right now - Ollie and Wicks were shouting at each other over the pong table and the entire tennis team was dancing wildly to Taylor Swift. Camilla Collins - Jack’s ex? Jack’s Screw date for the past several years? - stood in the corner, watching her teammates with a smile. 

She raised an eyebrow as Bitty came to stand next to her. With a grimace, she passed him her cup.

“You look like you need this more than I do,” she said, looking up at him with a knowing look. Bitty sighed and took a swig of the cranberry-whatever concoction. 

“Thanks,” he said. “You’re Camilla, right?”

She nodded and stuck out her hand. “And you’re on the hockey team, right? Justin and Adam post pictures of you a lot.” 

“Yeah,” he said, giving her hand a shake. “Eric. Nice to meet you.” 

“Are you the one responsible for the cookie shot glasses?” She asked with a grin. “Those are  _ dangerous _ .”

Bitty flushed with pride. “Why, yes, ma’am. My mother found the recipe on Pinterest and I just  _ had _ to try them!”

“What were they filled with?” Camilla asked, reaching up to touch Bitty on the arm. “It didn't even taste alcoholic.” 

“A hot cocoa-Bailey’s convo,” Bitty said, giving her a conspiratorial wink. “Though I think Lardo spiked my Bailey’s with Everclear or something.”

Camilla laughed, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. She really was very pretty, Bitty thought to himself. She and Jack must've been a sight together. 

“You know Larissa?” Camilla asked, eyes lighting up at the mention of Lardo. “Oh, that's a silly question, isn't it? She's your manager.” She giggled and Bitty could almost swear she looked embarrassed. 

“Yeah, Lardo’s one of my best friends,” Bitty said. “You know her?” 

Camilla smiled shyly. “Sort of. Jack introduced us a while ago. She's really cool.” 

“Mhmm,” Bitty nodded, but movement from the kitchen caught his attention. Ransom had his arm slung around March’s shoulders, chatting with her over the pounding of the music. A few feet away, hunched and frowning, Holster watched them, hands shoved into his pockets. Bitty turned back to Camilla. 

“I'm sorry, I think my friend needs me,” he said, lightly touching her arm. “It was nice meeting you.”

She gave him a knowing smile. “You, too. I'll probably head out soon, say hi to Jack for me.”

Bitty gave her one last smile then hurried across the room, approaching Holster carefully. 

As he drew closer, Bitty noticed the crease between Holster’s eyes as he watched Ransom whisper in March’s ear. March laughed at whatever Ransom said, and Holster’s shoulders tensed. 

Then, from the corner of his eye, Bitty saw Jack duck into the hallway with Lardo and something - jealousy, loneliness,  _ tub juice _ \- made him bold. He marched up to Holster and placed both hands on his chest, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I think we can help each other out,” he said, sliding his hands down a little. Holster pulled back, confused, and Bitty nodded to Ransom, then waggled his eyebrows a little. (Bitty had never claimed to be  _ smooth _ .)

“Oh.” Holster’s face scrunched together as he thought about it for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah. That’s a good plan.” 

Bitty grinned and wrapped his arms around Holster’s neck. Holster hoisted Bitty up against the wall, hands cupped under his ass. They stumbled a bit, giggling and nipping at each other’s mouths. Bitty wrapped his legs around Holster’s waist and grabbed at his face with liquor-sticky hands. 

For all his size and aggressive physicality, Holster was a gentle kisser. He moved his mouth against Bitty’s slowly, lightly. He pulled back when Bitty pressed forward, sucking on Bitty’s bottom lip for a moment before readjusting the angle. 

Bitty wrapped his arms around Holster’s neck and pulled him in closer, trailing kisses up Holster’s jaw until his mouth skimmed the shell of his ear. 

“Is Ransom watching?” Bitty asked, tugging on Holster’s earlobe with his teeth. Holster groaned. 

“I, uh. Yeah. I think so.” One hand squeezes Bitty’s ass tighter, the other slipped up the back of his shirt. 

“Good.” Bitty rolled his hips, just enough for Ransom to see, and pulled Holster’s mouth back to his. Holster kissed him harder now, a little too eagerly, teeth digging into Bitty’s lips. Bitty retaliated with his tongue, lapping into Holster’s mouth, the warmth of it spreading down to his toes. 

Bitty pulled away, his lips feeling swollen and tender, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to Holster’s. Holster grinned at him. 

Bitty saw as Ransom watched them wide-eyed, mouth ajar. Then he clenched his jaw and squared back his shoulders and grabbed the nearest person - a startled Johnson - and pulled their bodies together, back-to-chest. Johnson looked bewildered but knowing, and happily went along with it, tilting his head back as Ransom slid his hands across his chest, one settling lower on his stomach. 

They moved to the music together, more swaying than gyrating, but it was enough for Bitty to pause and stare, completing missing when Holster tried to pull him into another kiss. “You might wanna turn around,” Bitty murmured, though he was loath to lose the view. Holster dropped him to his feet and turned them around, tensing when he finally caught sight of Ransom. 

Bitty didn’t even bother to pretend that he and Holster were dancing. He turned back to watch Ransom and Johnson, openly gawking at this point. Two of the arguably most attractive people he knew were groping each other in the middle of a kegster - Bitty was allowed to have this moment. 

Johnson had half-turned in Ransom’s arms now, angling his head so they could kiss as they danced. To Bitty, they weren’t so much kissing as they were tugging at each other’s lips, mouths colliding every so often as they bobbed and swayed to the thundering bass. Bitty was mesmerized; Holster was shaking. 

Bitty looked up at Holster with a sad smile. “Don’t make me intervene. Go get ‘im.” 

Holster nodded, emboldened by Bitty’s words, and stalked off across the living room. He ducked down to murmur something in Ransom’s ear and jerked his head towards the hallway. Ransom said something to Johnson and they broke apart. Then Ransom and Holster disappeared, and Bitty hoped that at least  _ they _ would get their happy ending tonight. 

Johnson strolled up to Bitty and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, dude, it looks like it's your time to shine.” 

Bitty frowned. “What?” 

Johnson sighed. “You're the protagonist, bro. It's time for your big, romantic moment.”

Bitty was too tired to deal with Johnson’s bizarre life advice so he squeezed his eyes shut and asked, “Just tell me what to do, Johnson.”

“Huh.” Johnson scratched the back of his neck. “No one’s asked me that before, at least not in regards to the plot. You gotta go talk to Jack, Bits, he wants to talk with you. Like, I know you're jealous of whatever happened between him and Lardo, but, man, that trope is so contrived and really, if you  _ really  _ analyzed his relationship with Parse you'd realize that your feelings aren't as unrequited as you think they are.” Johnson grabbed Bitty by the shoulders and gently shook him. “Bro. Go to him. Tap that ass.”

“Alright then…” Bitty pulled away and gave Johnson a forced smile. “I'll just go...find Jack. Bye.”

Bitty backed out of the room as quick as he could, then sighed and resignedly marched up the stairs. Jack’s door was open, surprisingly, but it was empty when Bitty entered. The window by Jack’s bed was open as well, so Bitty climbed out to the reading room, where he found Jack. 

“Hey,” Bitty said softly. “Got tired of the party?” 

Jack looked up and smiled at him. “Yeah, well, I sort of lost everyone so I came up here for some air. What're you doing out here?” 

“Johnson was rambling on about Kent Parson and forced jealousy tropes and I'm not really sure what he meant by any of it but he told me you wanted to talk, so here I am.” 

Jack gave him an odd look. “I...did want to talk with you but I'm not sure how Johnson even knew that.” 

Bitty shrugged and scooted closer, drawing his knees to his chest. “He's an odd one, for sure,” he said softly. “What did you want to talk about?” 

Jack looked away, cheeks flushed from the cold and...something else. “Well, I noticed you left in the middle of the game…” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Bitty bit his lip, though it was sore and kiss-swollen. “Just needed some air,” he said. 

Jack studied his face carefully, then nodded to the front yard. Bitty followed his gaze and saw Lardo pressed up against a car, hands tangled in familiar, blonde curls. Bitty held a hand to his mouth. “Is that Camilla?” 

“Mhmm.” Jack grinned at him. “Lardo told me she's had a crush on Camilla since they met at Screw.” Bitty vaguely remembered that Jack had hung out with Shitty and Lardo for the majority of Screw, and as his date Camilla must have done the same. 

Bitty didn't understand how Jack was so calm about the situation. “Isn't it weird for you? Seeing your ex making out with your…?” 

Jack laughed. “Camilla and I didn't date very long. I'm happy for Lardo. I think they're good for each other.” 

Bitty was a patient man. He'd spent 18 years in the closet. He'd practiced and practiced and  _ practiced _ until he'd finally been able to land a triple lutz. He'd once let Holster explain the plot of his favorite 30 Rock episode for half an hour at a volleyball party. 

But he couldn't help but blurt out, “What happened between you and Lardo?” 

To his surprise, Jack turned a bright shade of red. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, eventually sighing and saying, “When I first met her, she wasn't our manager yet, just one of Shitty’s new friends. We'd both had a bit too much to drink and, honestly, I liked that she hadn't said more than three words to me all night, hadn't asked about hockey or drugs or my mom’s latest haircut. And, I don't know…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Somehow we ended up making out in the backyard. We didn't go further than that, some football guys started causing trouble and I had to take of it. A week later Shitty got Lardo the manager job and we never really talked about it.” 

Bitty nodded, a little dazed. “I made out with Holster tonight,” he heard himself say. “I mean, I made out with a lot of people during the game but. After.” 

“Oh,” Jack said, looking away. 

“I mean,” Bitty continued. “It was all to make Ransom jealous. And it worked,” he added with a grin. 

“Oh,” Jack said again, looking back at Bitty. “So they're…?”

“Mhmm.” Bitty nodded. “Looks like everyone’s getting lucky tonight.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow at him and Bitty blushed. “You know,” Jack said with a smirk. “I feel a little robbed. I didn't get to kiss the person I wanted to tonight.”

Bitty looked up at him, a mixture of nervousness and hope weighing down his stomach. “Oh?” 

Jack nodded and wetted his lips. Bitty’s mouth went dry as he leaned in closer. “Yeah. And I'm hoping you didn't either?” 

Their mouths met in a frenzy of bumped noses and clacking teeth. Jack cradled the back of Bitty’s head, thumb brushing behind his ear. Bitty skimmed his fingers up Jack’s chest and flattened his palms against the solid muscle of Jack’s pecs, warm under the thin t-shirt. 

Jack pulled back, tugging on Bitty’s lower lip as he went, and rested his forehead against Bitty’s. “Hi,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along Bitty’s jaw. 

“Hi,” Bitty said back. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed. “It's, um. It's a little cold, so you want to…?” His eyes flickered towards his bedroom window. Bitty bit back a smile. 

“I'd like that.” He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s lips. “Though I might be a little tired of kissing tonight,” he added as they stood. 

Jack frowned. “Oh, um, okay-”

Bitty cut him off by taking his hand and leaning in to say, “I guess we’ll have to find  _ other _ things to do with our mouths, huh?” 

There was a beat where Jack’s eyes grew wide, then he was practically shoving Bitty through the window. Bitty laughed and swung himself into the room, pulling Jack after him by his belt loops. 

Downstairs, Shitty was chilling by the tub juice station, unsure of where all his friends had gone. Johnson sidled up to him, hands in his pockets. 

“I guess it's down to you and me, man,” Johnson said. “Wanna make out?” 

Shitty ran a hand through his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about, brah?”

“Well, man, I don’t really know what to tell you. I guess the author just didn’t want you to feel left out.” 

“Again, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I mean, the author decided to end this foray into canon-divergent self-indulgence by emulating a true Shakespearean comedy - everyone except us has paired off romantically. I get it now, why she even bothered to bring me into this pocket universe. I’m bi! And attractive! And exactly your type, according to the poorly defined character traits assigned to me in this canon. Though, really, can it be considered a canon within the bounds of this narrative if it’s not quite defined in the canon of the original text? Of course, ours is a tricky case, since so much of the original story takes place in a cross-dimensional social media format. Can that which is not within the explicit text of a narrative be considered canon? Is Bitty’s Twitter, run at the hands of our original creator, textual? Or is it author-created fanon? Really, it’s a fascinating situation-”

Shitty raised an eyebrow. “Look, do you wanna mack or not?” 

“It’s a risky way to end things, I’ll give her that, but sure, why not?” Johnson shrugged. “Bring it in, Knight. We gotta end this on a good note.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Shitty said and pulled Johnson in for a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this story included Parse, and he filled in about half of Johnson’s role, but things started feeling way too out of character (lol) so I scrapped that. One day I may publish the closet hickey shenanigans I wrote between him and Bitty. One day.


End file.
